Night 50: Forest
[From here.]
The treeline was a welcome sight after the long trek from the quarry, the cold winds fighting the pair the entire time, trying to push them back into the relative protection of the institution's walls. The building may have provided refuge from the elements, but the horrors within had been worse than anything they'd seen outside thus far. The night had yielded some unexpected finds and locations for future endeavors; however, exploring the outer grounds while so injured might not have been their best idea.
The weather certainly didn't make their exploration any easier- the biting air made breathing painful, and Edgar was dealing with enough pain as it was. He walked a few steps ahead of Gren as they entered the forest, using his shovel as a staff as he reached beneath his jacket and put a hand on his shoulder, trying to think of anything but the steady throbbing from the injury beneath the bandages. The claw marks in his leg weren't nearly as problematic. There was no conversation to distract him- Landel had made sure of that. Concentrating on the shadows surrounding them was more difficult with every step. He felt sluggish, his breath labored and uncomfortably ragged.
Edgar stopped as they neared a clearing, leaning momentarily against a tree and taking a few steady breaths. He did his best to look composed, but couldn't help but feel spoiled by the armor and abundance of medicines provided in Figaro; without them, he had to rely on sheer endurance. It was a battle that left him feeling weak and entirely too vulnerable for his tastes.
The treeline was a welcome sight after the long trek from the quarry, the cold winds fighting the pair the entire time, trying to push them back into the relative protection of the institution's walls. The building may have provided refuge from the elements, but the horrors within had been worse than anything they'd seen outside thus far. The night had yielded some unexpected finds and locations for future endeavors; however, exploring the outer grounds while so injured might not have been their best idea.
The weather certainly didn't make their exploration any easier- the biting air made breathing painful, and Edgar was dealing with enough pain as it was. He walked a few steps ahead of Gren as they entered the forest, using his shovel as a staff as he reached beneath his jacket and put a hand on his shoulder, trying to think of anything but the steady throbbing from the injury beneath the bandages. The claw marks in his leg weren't nearly as problematic. There was no conversation to distract him- Landel had made sure of that. Concentrating on the shadows surrounding them was more difficult with every step. He felt sluggish, his breath labored and uncomfortably ragged.
Edgar stopped as they neared a clearing, leaning momentarily against a tree and taking a few steady breaths. He did his best to look composed, but couldn't help but feel spoiled by the armor and abundance of medicines provided in Figaro; without them, he had to rely on sheer endurance. It was a battle that left him feeling weak and entirely too vulnerable for his tastes.